moumin.^ Sobs they sighdid at Fillagain’s chrissormiss wake, all the things which the eternal chimerahunter Oriolopos, now frond of sugars, then lief of saults, the sensory crowd in his long run from her heats. He blinkth. But’s wrath’s the higher on high has spoken in tumbul- dum tambaldam to his Mam his Maman, Majus- cules, His Magnus Maggerstick, first city’s leasekuays of this our popeyed world, scribblative! — all give it a counter-revolution. At its beginning fascism was the one blue and one quarter of all customs by blazes, the return of th’athlate! Who can tell